


Just One Last Dance

by Annie17851



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, major angst; presumed Destiel; sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1821481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie17851/pseuds/Annie17851
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel manages to make it to the bunker just as Demon!Dean is leaving. Sad, just saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> They have been doing this dance around each other for years now.
> 
> Had to do this,don't hate me. I'll do something happy to make up for it.

Just One Last Dance

 

Sam Winchester and his brother stand opposite each other over the library table, Sam wordless now, after Dean’s “I’m so out of here, bro!” The previous short conversation they've had reels around in Sam’s mind, mingled with the tacit, frantic pleas he is making to Castiel, anyone really, to get here – to help. Dean has this- look – on his face, eyes black, daring Sam to try to stop him from leaving, all but laughing out loud at Sam’s desperate suggestion that they can fix this.

“Nothing to be fixed, Sammy!” Dean had declared, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. “There’s nothing to worry about! I’ll be off with Crowley, my vile king, and you, well, because you’re, were, my brother, I’m leaving in peace. Instead of leaving you in pieces.” Dean must have thought this was absolutely, hysterically priceless, because he literally cracked himself up for almost a minute afterward. 

The First Blade is still gripped tightly in Dean’s hand, and in between trying to use the Force to get Castiel to the bunker and trying to wrap his head around the fact that his brother is a demon (an actual demon), Sam has been keeping a wary eye on the weapon, ready to throw himself under the table, or anywhere, in case Dean actually attacks him.

“Dean, seriously….” Sam starts, but Dean lifts the Blade just a little, barely noticeable, and Sam clams up. 

“I’m telling you, little brother, it’s way better for you this way.” 

It is at that moment that Castiel appears in the room and Sam’s heart drops despairingly. It is very apparent that the angel’s grace is all but gone now, and the first brief seconds of the joy in the angel’s eyes at seeing Dean alive (alive after all!) are replaced rapidly with confusion and disbelief.

Castiel is weak, stunned and has a hand on the edge of the table to steady himself. He shakes his head, even as he says exactly what Sam has said. “Dean, we can fix this! I’ll go back up to Heaven now, find someone who knows how, someone will help us.”

“Cas!” Dean greets the angel delightedly. “Not lookin’ so good today, are we? Well, not me- I look great! But you – you look like dead heaven warmed over. Sammy here,” he adds with a flick of the Blade in his brother’s direction, “he’s not looking much better, Really, I just stopped on my way out to say good-bye, so this is nice. I can kill two birds with one stone, say ‘bye to everyone. Or I can just kill two birds. Whatever.” He shrugs nonchalantly and Cas’ pulse, already skittering around in fear, notches up even faster.

Reluctant to take his eyes off Dean, Castiel does it regardless, for just a second, looking at Sam’s shocked face, quickly shifting his gaze back to the black-eyed creature a few feet away.

“Sam,” Cas says calmly. “Go to the dungeon. Summon Dean into the trap there. If you summon him he has to appear.”

Dean smiles and shakes his head slowly. “Sam, don’t go to the dungeon. And don’t summon me. I have a date with the king-not Elvis, mind you – the real king, so sorry to say, not happening!”

At the mention of the King of Hell, Sam and Castiel exchange the slightest of sidelong glances and Sam takes off running. He can summon Crowley, he can ask Crowley what to do, he can torture Crowley, (and will be very willing to do so) to get any kind of information they can to help Dean.

Dean takes a step to chase him, but Cas moves just enough to get in the way, and even though Dean could throw him across the length of the library with negligible effort, he stops.

“Really?” Dean grins at Cas insolently.

“Dean, please don’t go.” Cas urges quietly. “This doesn't have to end this way. After all these years, all we've fought against, it can’t.”

Dean’s grip on the Blade tightens visibly and Cas takes an involuntary step away, but a look of consternation has passed across the demon’s face.

And that’s exactly it, isn't it, the thing that makes Dean’s face change subtly, the thing that turns the black of his eyes back to green, however briefly. 

They have been doing this dance around each other for years now. Through barns, warehouses, deserted homes, bars, shitty towns, shittier motels, stolen cars, the Impala, days and nights. Angels, Lucifer, most of the monsters that have ever existed, life, death, trust and betrayal. Dean searched for Castiel for a year in Purgatory and Cas repaid that by almost killing him. Castiel raised Dean from Hell, remade him atom by atom and Dean repaid him by turning him away into the streets, heartbroken and vulnerable. It’s a waltz, it’s a tango, it’s a straight drop off a cliff into insanity and need and love and Dean can’t do it anymore, won’t do it anymore and his newly-black heart twists painfully to remind him what he is now.

Dean’s eyes cycle back to black and he pins Castiel witheringly with the gaze Cas used to live for, fell for, abandoned Heaven for, gave up everything for, and Castiel’s heart drops heavily, because he knows it’s all over now.

Dean smiles, flourishing the Blade in his right hand almost seductively.

“C’mon, angel. Just one last dance.”


End file.
